Things You Said After You Kissed Me
by ionica01
Summary: There were many things Shouto could have said after kissing Momo for the first time. "You're exquisite." "See you soon, Creati." "I love you." "You're my Belle." "But I could help ruining your hair." So why are his first words "I promise I'm sober" followed by "I'm an idiot" !


**AN** : Here you have 5k of mindless fluff (with a few mindful lines). I hope you enjoy whipped Shouto, mutual pinning and snarky comebacks, because they are the backbone of this fic (and my being lol). Also a lot of Disney.

Enjoy!

* * *

The first time Todoroki almost loses control over himself, she's in her pajamas.

It's the Saturday after the final exams, and judging from the empty common room, everyone ust be taking a well deserved long sleep, idling in their beds as the morning wastes away. Only a few of the class 2-A members are up: Satou, who greets Shouto with the smell of baked cake and vanilla frosting as the latter barges into the kitchen for breakfast; Midoriya and Iida, who never give up on their training schedule, not even on their off days, and Bakugou, who blasts loud music in his room, attracting Shouto's attention as he passes by. Aside from these four and himself, everyone is either snoring softly as the sun rises higher on the sky, or cooped up in their rooms, hoping that if they ignore the daylight for long enough, it will eventually leave them be.

Shouto has never been one for lazy mornings. It's not that he's a morning person like Midoriya either - he doesn't feel any particular rush of adrenaline if he exercises under the weak morning rays of the sun, kissing his bare skin. Maybe it's a habit he got into when he was young and wanted to escape from his house as soon as possible, so he woke up when the sky began bleeding and retreated into his dreamless sleeps as soon as darkness took over.

No matter the reason, the fact remains that Shouto wakes up early, decides to listen to his sore muscles - no doubt a result of his teaming up with Kaminari yesterday and having to carry him after he electrocuted himself, a necessary sacrifice to defeat Present Mic - and realises he doesn't have many hobbies to occupy his time.

Growing up, he never had free time, either because his father made him train or because he didn't allow himself to have any time to brood over their broken family. So now, alone in his rather empty room and faced with only a handful of books he's already read twice, Shouto ponders his possibilities.

He could be trying to hone his ice quirk, attempting to create sculptures from it, just like Yaoyorozu creates new objects with her own quirk. Except he is prohibited from using his quirk for at least two days, since he overexerted himself yesterday. Perhaps he could sleep it off like Kaminari.

But his thoughts have already drifted to his seatmate and one of his closest friends, Yaoyorozu, and before he knows it, he's crossing the dorm building to reach her room. She has a mini-library lining up the walls of her dorm, so perhaps she could borrow him one of her favourite titles. There's one in particular, _The Name of the Rose_ , that she's recommended him on several occasions.

Shouto knocks on her door before he can whirl on his heels and head back. Now that he thinks about it, she may be sleeping, although Yaoyorozu isn't the type to laze around, but she deserves it, after having produced a tank - _a_ _tank_ \- just the day before. Even if she isn't, as Shouto knocks on more time, he can't help the growing feeling that he's barging in on her.

Ever since he's realised the special feelings he holds for her, every interaction feels like he's stepping into her personal space. He's put a leash on his blunt mouth when he is with her, a restriction to keep him from blurting out his unnecessary feelings to her, because the last thing he wants to be to her is a burden, and how could his blossoming love for her be anything else?

The door cracks after the second knock, and Shouto spies the untied tendrils of hair that sneak around her face as she peeks behind her door, and then softly gasps as she fully opens it.

"Todoroki-san!"

Shouto can't help but stare. She's wearing shorts with a heart print and a baggy T-shirt with the image of a panda imprinted on it, a gift he remembers she received from Hagakure because she was so happy to have "trendy pjs" that it made him chuckle and she gave him one of those smiles that reminded him why his feelings spiraled out of control. He feels like personally congratulating Hagakure for the choice - the model is sweet, and the clothes curve around her waist and chest in ways that test Shouto's leash.

"I'm sorry, I was reading so I must have not heard the door! Were you waiting?"

Even as her words draw his attention to her face, he finds enough common sense to say, "No" but that's as far as his sensibility takes him. After that, all of his energy is forced on not stepping closer to her, because he knows what would happen afterwards.

Shouto remembers reading about love-struck men looking at their significant others in lavish dresses or wearing soft makeup, being caressed by the sun in a particular way that softens their faces or makes their black eyes dance with stars, or even looking like the sun itself.

Yaoyorozu doesn't look like any star.

Her hair is disheveled, mussed and sticking out of her bun as she probably rolled around her pillows, she's wearing no makeup and instead of the velvet dress, she's wearing white, cheap pajamas that make her look like a kid. The sun doesn't dance around her, her eyes are all playful onyx and still pools of obsidian that absorb even light itself.

And she's so beautiful that Shouto has a sudden urge to personally write letters to all those authors and tell them how wrong they are.

Because this 17 year old girl beats any high class lady in her 20s just by wearing plain clothes and unstyled hair, and all Shouto wants to do is loop a hand around her waist and kiss her.

He can already imagine the taste of her lips, soft and surprised against his own, but responding in kind, innocently taking him and this new territory in, tracking a new map. Shouto would mess her hair even more, running a hand through the rich black locks, curling them around his fingers, weaving his hand so deep in them he wouldn't be able to take it out, and she'd laugh about that against his lips.

And after they broke apart for air, noses bumping awkwardly, he'd drink in her laughter and say, " _You're exquisite"_ because that's one of her favourite words.

Instead, she talks again, "Can I help you, Todoroki-san?"

Shouto shoves his wishful thinking in a corner of his mind, shakes his head to dismiss the urge that pulses through him, and says, "Can I borrow that book you kept ranting about?"

Yaoyorozu beams, knowing exactly what he's referring to, and lets him spend the rest of his day in her room, exchanging thoughts as he pours through page after page of crimes, deeper meanings and a plot so well layered it leaves him second-guessing every word. It takes his mind away from running his thumb over her lips, if only barely.

* * *

The second time it's on graduation day.

Shouto holds his father's steady look as he clutches his diploma, the older's hero scar staring right back at him, and grins despite himself, because he did it, and he did it without being caged by his bloodline. His mother, for the first time in years, is there, too, watery smile and napkin brushing at her eyes, and she looks so happy that Shouto's grin melts into a coy smile. He can swear his mother's eyes whisper, _You did it on your own, and I am proud of you._

"Midoriya-kun, don't cry!" Iida's voice breaks through the wordless dialogue with his mother, and Shouto feels his two friends on either side of him. Despite his words, Iida is almost in tears himself, and sniffles to keep from breaking down entirely.

"But this is our last day here," Midoriya says, his words muffled by the sleeve he uses to stop the waterfalls. "We've spent three years here and now they're _over_."

That, apparently, is what it takes to break the dam on Iida's feelings. Shouto pats both of their backs, something he always sees Yaoyorozu doing when one of their classmates - former classmates, Shouto corrects himself - are having a hard time, but it only makes them cry harder as they cling to him. He isn't particularly good at affectionate gestures, but Shouto hugs them gingerly, and that's when he notices _her._

In a similar situation, Yaoyorozu is supporting her friends, patting their backs like she always does, muttering words of comfort Shouto can't hear. Despite the confident front she puts up, he notices her shoulders slumping, and wonders whether she has someone to pat her back.

When the crowds thin out, the students bidding their goodbyes to join their families, he stays behind. Shouto feels the need to look over their training grounds one more time, to stroll through grounds B, remembering all of the scratches and bruises he got there, recalling Midoriya's words. Remembering the past to launch into the future.

Yaoyorozu seems to think along the same lines as she stands in front of their classroom, not daring to set a foot inside. She doesn't flinch when Shouto steps next to her, like she expected him there, and they sit in silence for a while.

"I feel like if I walked in, I won't be able to walk out again," she eventually admits. "We've been here day after day for so long that it feels unreal to wake up and go anywhere else."

Shouto gets it, so he nods. "I can't believe I won't always be sitting in the last row next to you."

"And that Aizawa-sensei won't be there to guide us anymore."

"Or to roll into his sleeping bag." They both chuckle at their teacher's antics.

Shouto looks inside and takes a step over the threshold, turning around to offer her a hand. She brushes her fingertips against his skin, then squeezes his hand tightly and smiles at him. Yaoyorozu has always trusted him, be it in his judgement or on the battlefield, and she follows him into the classroom with that blind confidence that he can bring her out.

They walk to their desks - for three years they've always taken the places in the back, almost as if they had their names written on them. Yaoyorozu runs a hand over the wooden tabletops, the grip on his hand tightening as she whips her head to face him.

There are tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, hanging from her eyelashes, and she doesn't attempt to wipe them away. Maybe it's because Shouto has already seen her crying before, or again because of that blind trust. He doesn't mind either way.

"It's stupid, isn't it?" Yaoyorozu says. "I know we'll definitely work together again, yet I can't help but feel like this is the end. Like we'll never be class A again, and never-" her words die out as the tears start rolling.

Shouto is terrible with words, so he does the only thing he knows how to do, and opens his arms in an awkward invitation. He's almost surprised when she accepts, but he closes his arms around her, pressing her to his chest and rubbing her back as she rests her head on his shoulder. Quiet sobs ripple through her, arching her spine, and Shouto feels that need to kiss her again, to take the sobs onto himself.

"Thank you, Todoroki-san," she mumbles in his shoulder.

Shouto closes his eyes as he hums and imagines her wet lips and him sealing a promise with that imagined kiss. " _See you soon, Creati."_

* * *

The third time they're barely alive, but she's smiling.

Through the dust and debris, among shreds of broken windows and chunks of cement that are still falling as a result of the earthquake quirk of the villain they've just apprehended, her red costume stands out. She was knocked down after the last earthquake, one that Jirou managed to nullify before it destroyed the entire city, but that still shook them off their feet.

Shouto feels a jab of pain shred through his right foot as he stands up, and looks down to see it coated in a thin layer of frost, the stream of blood trickling down it frozen. The wound he burned close on his lower abdomen throbs as he steps towards her, but he blocks out the pain and moves.

Yaoyorozu is staggering up, her knees buckling, and she creates a crutch to prop her elbow against as she attempts to stand. Shouto picks up the pace, despite the head-splitting pain that makes his vision go hazy around the corners. He's aware he's lost blood, so much blood that now soaks the ground and his costume and _her_ costume, but he won't go to the ambulance without her, not when blood is running down her face too, not when she needs a human crutch more than the one she has just created.

He's two steps away when she looks up to him and smiles, a genuine smile that makes her wince with pain but reaches her eyes and dances around the obsidian reflections, and that's when Shouto understands that she's his hero. Not because he's in love with her, or because she's one of his best friends, but because even when housing countless bruises and cuts, she can smile genuinely. Maybe that's why she's a lively red amongst the destruction, too - she's the flame that rekindles hope among the citizens.

"We did it," she says wearily, collapsing into Shouto's chest.

He wraps his hands around her, gently cradling her into his arms. She winces when he touches her left arm, most likely broken and shredded by the boulders that one of the villains could control, but she's alive, so Shouto won't complain.

"We did it," he repeats after her. She's warm, her breath ragged, her chest heaving, and Shouto is once again speechless in front of how strong she is. She saved lives - _his_ life - with her quick thinking yet again, but most people forget that she is still human. A human that nuzzles into his chest and cool now, hanging onto him like he hangs onto her.

Shouto is always terrified of raids, not because he doesn't trust her - he puts his life into her hands every day on the battlefield - but because he's one of the few that remember she's a hero, not a superhuman, breakable and with limits that she overcomes daily.

Losing friends in raids is what he's afraid of the most, so he listens to her breathing and tries matching his to it, planting kisses along the crown of her hair as he does so because the woman he loves the most is _alive_ , and so is he.

It would be so easy to cup her face, tilt her chin towards his lips and feel her hot mouth against his icy breath, chapped lips probably coated in the metallic tang of blood and salty sweat, and he'd say, " _I love you"_ over and over again because he may never get the chance to otherwise.

But she's tired and needs to get treatment, and he should get to the ambulance himself, too. Shouto is too drained to pick her up, so he drapes her good arm around his neck and she abandons the crutch, digging her nails into his shoulder.

They hobble over to the paramedics, who separate the two of them, and for a minute, panic flashes through her eyes as she leaves her side. Shouto sends her a calming smile, one that slowly crawls onto her tired face too, and wonders whether she shares his worries.

She has always been the one who understood him the best.

* * *

The fourth time she's in his apartment, and Shouto can't help but think that she fits in there.

Sometime in the beginning of their third year, Shouto realised she likes Disney movies as much as he does, and when she confessed that her favourite was the forgotten classic _Hercules_ , he knew he had good taste in girls.

Ever since then, it became tradition to meet up for a Disney movie every two weeks. When they were still living in the dorm, the others would join if they decided to host their Disney nights in the common room, but they sometimes preferred the comforting silence of one of their own rooms. Yaoyorozu didn't like attracting too much attention, so she never sang along if the others joined, but when they watched Treasure Planet in the intimacy of Shouto's dorm, he discovered she knew the lines to _I'm Still Here_ by heart.

Shouto was afraid their marathons would stop after they graduated, but, to his delight, they didn't. They became monthly as a result of their busy schedules and terrible synchronisation, and they sometimes dozed off towards the end of a movie, waking up with terrible back aches from the uncomfortable positions, but they always laughed it off over pancakes the next morning.

Another thing Shouto enjoyed was that he could discuss the deeper themes with Yaoyorozu, because she got them, got the intricacies of the messages behind the colours, sometimes from a new perspective, and everytime she ranted, Shouto realised he felt deeper down the rabbit hole. The snarky comments were equally appreciated on his side, and her wit stroke him so deeply that he found himself staring at her and wondering why he hadn't confessed yet.

Tonight, it's _Beauty and the Beast_ , a timeless classic they're watching for the third time because it's one of Yaoyorozu's favourites. Somehow, she always picks up on new symbols or puns in the movie.

"Don't whine, glasses," Shouto quotes as she pushes in the disc.

Yaoyorozu softly elbows him as she nestles into the pillows and blankets Shouto bought specifically for their movie nights - otherwise, he's fine even without blankets, thanks to his quirk. "The best line is definitely 'There's the usual: flowers, chocolate, promises you don't intend to keep'."

"You just don't appreciate puns," he huffs dramatically, stealing a line out of Kaminari's repertoire.

She steals the nachos bowl in revenge. "You don't even appreciate Gaston's song enough!"

"That's because the best musical piece in the movie is obviously _Something Here That Wasn't There Before_ ," he argues as he attempts to steal his snacks back.

"That's nice, sure, but come on! Gaston needs an entire musical piece to boost up his ego, yet everyone assumes he's some sort of god," she snorts, such an unelegant and cute gesture on her behalf that Shouto can't help the low chuckle that sneaks out of him.

"Do you ever stop to think how much his parents must have spent on the dozen eggs he ate daily?" he defends himself.

"Of course, and it was a fortune at the time."

"Goes to prove how much of an arrogant bastard he was."

"And such a misogynist, too! He couldn't have lived with Belle even if he had tried to - she would have owned him with her knowledge and smartly roasted him," she says, eyes dancing with one of those smiles that remind Shouto why he loves her.

"You're just like her," Shouto says, finally managing to steal a nachos.

She gives up, places the bowl back between them and arches an eyebrow. "How so?"

"You're able to kick anyone's butt, be it with words or actions." Shouto means every word he said, so when she frowns at the phrasing, he continues, "You'd never be anyone's pet, Yaoyorozu. That's why you're so amazing."

She's quiet for a moment, her cheeks dusted with pink as she avoids his eyes, but she eventually wills herself to look at him, test the truth those words hold. When she realizes he wasn't just flattering her, the pink turns to red and she mutters, "Thank you."

They let the movie roll afterwards, commenting every now and then, like when _Be Our Guest_ plays and Yaoyorozu cries, "What is the 'grey stuff' though?" It's one of Disney's mysteries, they decide.

Although they've watched this movie twice before, they both jolt at the rooftop fight, and Yaoyorozu - probably unaware of where her hands roam - grabs Shouto's fingers and squeezes them when the Beast almost dies.

Shouto's eyes are drawn from the screen to her face, the way she bites her lower lip in anticipation, and he feels like leaning over and kissing her. She's close - so very close, but he can't, because he's the Beast and he can't talk about his curse - or even worse, pass it onto her.

It's then that Yaoyorozu turns away from the screen depicting the last dance to meet his eyes, and as obsidian meets black and blue, Shouto could swear she _knows_ what he's thinking, because she licks her lips almost as if it's a taunt.

But then she blinks and Shouto misses his chance to discover whether the chapstick she uses it's strawberry or raspberry flavoured or to whisper " _You're my Belle"_ in her ear afterwards.

* * *

The fifth time she's dressed up, but Shouto wishes she wasn't.

It's pretty stupid, really, being jealous at this age and without having told her how he feels. Shouto is aware he has no right to be so territorial, especially not when he can't make her happy. The hollow hole in his heart threatens to swallow him whole when she notices him from across the room and smiles warmly, and he furls his fingers into a fist, reminding himself he doesn't deserve her.

Sometimes, he almost thinks he could make her happy - when she laughs at his jokes, or when he manages to blast a wall of fire just in time to shield her back from an attack she couldn't see coming, or when she secretly squeezes his hand during interviews that make her nervous. But then he remembers his mother and he's so scared he'll wipe the smile off Yaoyorozu's face that being consumed by the pit in his heart feels like a small price to pay.

Yaoyorozu, however, always tramples over the weak leash on his feelings, and traverses the ballroom to him, exposing her red evening gown in all of its glory, although Shouto vowed to himself he wouldn't stare at it.

It's impossible, of course - the pearls that send light dancing off her necklace and the crimson red that hugs her body make Shouto break his promise with no remorse. He still prefers her casual look, however - maybe because that's something reserved to him and only a select few others - he is that pitiful - or because he actually thinks she looks better when she isn't trying to hard. A small part of him whispers that he leans towards the former.

"A rather dull party, isn't it?" Yaoyorozu says as she clinks her crystal glass against Shouto's and proceeds to whirl her wine, as rich coloured as her dress.

"Aren't all parties the same?" Shouto responds, taking another sip. It's his second glass already, and he suspects he'll be downing at least two more if he is to resist until midnight in here.

"Well, the last one we had to attend was rather enjoyable," she muses, retreating in the shadows, next to him. The pearl necklace stops dancing around with the chandelier light, instead twirling in the darkness.

"That was only because we were undercover, so the adrenaline rush or whatever kicked in."

She chuckles at his answer, nursing her wine. "That may be the case. Or perhaps we just attended one too many balls in our early childhood."

Shouto mumbles, "Yeah, as if we were being fooled we live in a fairytale."

Her grave nods indicates that she gets it - the harshness of reality, the intricate games the adults around them played, the roles they never accepted yet slipped into. And it's because she gets it that she jokes, "Well, I wouldn't have minded having a fairy godmother."

"I would have liked growing up with Aurora's," Shouto jests.

"Given your amount of snark, I wouldn't have found it surprising if you actually did," Yaoyorozu laughs, and it's so genuine that Shouto can't take it personally. 'Besides, your cooking skills match."

"We can't all have a rat's nose," he answers and she chortles. That's more like the Yaoyorozu he loves - the one that loses it over stupid references and doesn't mind the elegant attire she's stuck in as long as she's in his company.

"You, however, would greatly benefit from a Remy," she eventually manages.

"And risk getting the hair my fans adore so much ruined? Not a chance, Yaoyorozu." He runs a hand through his bangs to emphasise his point.

Yaoyorozu bites back her laugh as she leans over and slicks his hair back into place. "You're ruining it by yourself already, you don't need the help."

"Thanks," Shouto mutters as she adjusts his fancy hairstyle - the one that exposes his scar more than he'd like, but he doesn't particularly mind the soft brush of her fingertips against it.

She's so close that he feels his perfume, delicate yet lasting, and her hand is close enough that he could just catch it and tug her closer, could smudge her red lipstick, and then he could whisper, " _But I could help ruining yours"_ or something equally cheesy that would nevertheless make her squirm and blush.

The music suddenly changes, just as Shouto grasps her hand, and a slow song fills the silence between them. The notes ask the question Shouto can't, and she nods as she steps closer, following him to the dance floor.

Maybe he should just throw caution to hell and risk it. Shouto just doesn't want risking _her_ , so he contents himself with booking all of her dances for the evening, and scrapes through the boring discussions with other heroes or journalists without the third and fourth glass of wine.

* * *

Momo has read extensively on all sorts of diets, but hangover cures just weren't in her radar. As she turns over the crepe in the pan, she hopes the cheese filling will do the trick and that internet forums aren't all full of lies. When the crepe becomes a nice and very light brown colour, she turns the stovetop off and hurries into the living room.

It's almost noon, and the sun filtered through the curtains seems to have woken Todoroki up. His eyes are bleary with sleep and he looks a bit confused, but as soon as his eyes meet hers, understanding clears his mind and he instead winces at the splitting headache.

"You should probably drink this first," Momo says, holding out a glass of water for him. Her other palm opens to reveal a paracetamol. He takes both gratefully, emptying the glass with thirsty gulps. "I also prepared breakfast - the internet says it helps with hangovers."

Todoroki nods, but seems to immediately regret his decisions. "Can I use the bathroom first?" his voice is ragged - probably from all the throwing up he did last night.

Momo nods.

She isn't sure why he drank so much - he can hold his liquor well, so only a considerable amount could have shaken him the way it did. The reason, given his stoic nature, must have been quite bothersome. He's lucky Kaminari was there - although he was equally wasted, so he wasn't of much help in revealing why Todoroki acted so unusually.

Todoroki stumbles out of the bathroom a few minutes later, looking a bit less like he wants to kill himself over his stupid decisions and more like he just wants to plop into a bed and spend the rest of his day under the blankets.

His head must be ringing, so Momo doesn't bother him with questions, although she wonders why he can't talk about whatever is bothering him with her. Instead, she gets up and loosely laces their hands together, tugging his hand towards the kitchen and providing support at the same time.

She doesn't expect him to pull her back and kiss her. It's sudden, and short, like he's testing the grounds, and she's not prepared for it whatsoever.

"I promise I'm sober," he says as he pulls her back in, this time for a longer kiss. His palm flattens against hers, tightening his grasp on her fingers, while his other hand roams through her hair, near the nape of her neck. His lips send electricity thrumming through Momo's veins, and she closes her eyes as she raises her own hand to his cheek - unshaved, and a bit rough, but so warm.

His lips are hot against hers as they move with more urgency, and Momo responds in kind. It's then that she realizes _she_ might have been his problem and almost sighs. She thought he'd never work up the courage to confess to her - not after all the chances she's offered him in the past, out of which he'd seized none. Momo thought her feelings were obvious enough, but lately, she was pondering confessing - or the painful possibility that he just wasn't interested.

But now he's here, tracking her lips, pressing her closer and closer to him, as if she'd disappear if he let go of her. She needs to pull him down to properly reach his mouth, because of his growth spurt in his late teens that left them with the height difference of almost a head, but she doesn't particularly mind, because he bends down without any objections.

Momo pulls for air first, feels her cheeks flushed and her lips red from the way he bit on them. She opens her mouth to say something, anything, but words fail her.

It's Todoroki that says first, "I'm an idiot."

"What?"

"From all the things I could have said after kissing you, why did I have to go with _I'm sober_? Way to set the tone," he mumbles to himself.

Momo just chuckles, then laughs and eventually roars. He eyes her curiously, but she's lost it, and needs greedy intakes of air to calm herself.

"What?" he says, confusion and worry blending in his voice.

"I just - you finally kissed me, and that's what you're worried about?" He nods, as if that were obvious, and it's all she can do not to laugh again. "So what did you want to say?"

"Well there were several ways I pictured this could play out. Clearly I wasn't hungover in any of those scenarios," Todoroki huffs.

Momo throws her hands around his neck and simply says, "I love you."

She had no idea saying that out loud could make her feel so weightless - that it could be so easy, so effortless and natural. That she just needed to get it out.

Todoroki kisses the top of her head and just as easily says, "I love you too." He reaches for her chin, and pulls it upwards to lock her eyes into his gaze. "And I will make you happy," he says. _Promises._

Momo's face stretched into a smile. "You already make me happy," she says and realises that's all that needs to be said, really. He dips his head to kiss her again, and this time, she's prepared. She's also curious what he'll say afterwards - how he imagined this would play out.

His lips keep her too busy to ask, and when he pulls her scrunchie off, unbounding her hair, she happily messes with his. In his arms - that's a good place to be.

* * *

 **AN: Hello again!**

I hope you've enjoyed this! It was a request sitting in my inbox that turned into so much more than just a drabble. To be honest, this is one of my favourite oneshots I've written lately, so I hope you'll enjoy it too! Let me know in the comments, your love keeps me alive and writing~


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